Moirae
by Victoria Alatamir Wan
Summary: Hope fades into the world of night, through shadows falling, out of memory and time. Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again. Why do you weep? /Rated for angst, attempted suicide, injury, canon death.
1. Prologue Aear

**Moirae  
**Prologue: Aear

A/N: I have recently developed a love for Aragorn and Legolas (friendship or otherwise), and I wanted to explore more about what happened between them when Aragorn died, and Legolas sailed over Sea. I hope you like it!

The title is from Greek mythology, in which the Moirae (or the Fates) controlled everyone's destiny.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Lyrics ("If I could wish...") are from the song "Two Voices One Song" from the soundtrack of Barbie and the Diamond Castle. (Pleeeease don't ask. My sister made me watch it with her. The music's really not that bad, you know. And the movie's pretty funny.)

* * *

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"I want to go," I lie.

He narrows his eyes suspiciously, and I do my best to maintain my innocent expression.

"Are you sure, Legolas?" he presses on. I nod. I'm pretty sure he sees through me, but he lets it slide this time—though I know he will be watching me like his eagle namesake for any signs of pain.

Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, has invited Aragorn to visit him—"and bring your family," he added in his letter. Eldarion has never been to the ocean, and Arwen wants to take him along. Seven-year-old Eldarion, who greatly resembles his father, wanted me to go as well, and so it was decided. After all, no one can refuse him anything—just like his father had been when he was young.

Imrahil welcomes us warmly, though I think he is surprised to see me, and even more surprised when Eldarion calls me Uncle.

The young Prince giggles when he first touches the cold water. His mother smiles lovingly, pointing out the different seabirds flying about. After some time, she turns to Aragorn. "Watch him for a while. I have to go get something."

I watch Aragorn and Eldarion from my perch atop a rock, smiling as the boy splashes water at his father. Suddenly, Eldarion loses his balance, and falls. Aragorn almost cries out, but then Eldarion stands, shaking the water from his dark hair, grinning brightly up at his father. My breath catches slightly when I realize how much Eldarion resembles Estel.

"Legolas!" Aragorn calls to me. "You look so bored. Come and join us." I smile, but refuse. He insists, "Come."

I grin cheekily. "Is that an order, Aran nîn?" He chuckles. "I can make it one," he mock-threatens. I laugh, leaping lightly to my feet. "All right, all right. I'm coming."

Once I am within firing range, he flicks water at me, and I dodge it, having been expecting it. Eldarion laughs, following his father's example. I retaliate, and within minutes, we are all soaked to the skin.

A white seagull swoops overhead, its yellow beak open as it calls.

A sudden spasm of pain shoots through the left side of my chest, and involuntarily I reach up to clutch at it. Aragorn takes a step towards me, his face concerned. His lips form my name, but I hear no more as the cold water hits my back.

Aragorn and Eldarion scream.

The next thing I am aware of is hot sand on my back. Aragorn is kneeling by me, his silvery-blue eyes wildly panicked. "I'm sorry," he whispers, calming slightly when he sees that I am all right. "That was so stupid of me. I should have known better."

I shake my head, ignoring how just that simple movement makes my vision swim dizzyingly. "You blame yourself too much."

Eldarion comes to us then. "Ada," he says, his sweet voice filled with concern. "Will Uncle be all right?"

I smile at him reassuringly, pushing myself into a sitting position. "I'm fine, tithen pen." He nods, easily convinced, and goes back to the water's edge. Aragorn just looks at me, quietly despairing. "I do not understand, Lassë," he says softly, using my old nickname. Eldarion does not hear us. "The Sea-longing is tearing you apart. I can see it. Yet still you stay."

"I stay for you, Estel." I look him in the eyes, gently brushing my hand across his cheek. "I cannot leave Arda when such strong ties still bind me." Aragorn closes his eyes, a tear trickling down his cheek. He starts to speak, but I do not let him finish. "Do not be sorry, mellon nîn. I do not regret it."

_If I could wish for one thing, I'd take the smile that you bring. Wherever you go in this world, I'll come along. Together we dream the same dream. Forever I'm here for you, you're here for me. Two voices, one song._

* * *

A/N: I was actually not planning to have a prologue, but this was somewhat inspired by a recent visit to Nandaihe Beach (a few hours' drive from Beijing). Anyway, please read and review! Let me know how I did :)

Translations:  
Aear—sea  
Aran nîn—my King  
Tithen pen—little one  
Lassë—leaf (used in this story as Legolas' nickname)  
Mellon nîn—my friend


	2. 1 Namárië

**Moirae  
**Chapter 1: Namárië

A/N: Wikipedia says Legolas is a Sindar Elf...just a heads-up.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Tolkien owns Middle-earth and all characters (as much as we all wish otherwise ;P). The words of the 'forever young' conversation between Estel and Legolas are taken from the refrain to "Forever Young" by Alphaville.

* * *

Two white stallions race into Minas Tirith, pausing only long enough for their riders to speak the password at each level.

Legolas' heart pounds in his throat as the horses climb up the winding road. His hands, pressed against Gimli in front of him, shake uncontrollably, and Gimli fidgets. The Dwarf hates horses, and having to hold the reins of one is nearly unbearable. But then again, when Elboron had arrived in Ithilien, out of breath and panicking, Gimli had, for reasons still unknown to anyone, taken the reins after seeing Legolas' incapacitating terror at Elboron's message. So it really is his own fault.

Luckily, Hasufel knows the roads of Minas Tirith almost as well as the plains of Rohan by now, having walked these paths so many times with Legolas. Gimli doesn't need to do much directing; he just holds on tightly and tries not to fall off again. Now is definitely not a good time to be a typical Dwarf on a horse.

Legolas, on the other hand, is completely terrified. Elboron's brief message echoes in his mind—the three words he never wanted to hear. "Aragorn is dying," Elboron had gasped out, his gray eyes panicked. Legolas knows he is probably overreacting—after all, he has known for over two hundred years that this day would come. But try as he might, he cannot calm down.

The horses stop in the courtyard of the White Tree, and Legolas slips off the horse. He waits only long enough to help Gimli off, before dashing into the very familiar passageway to the King's chambers.

Gimli and Elboron catch up with him a few minutes later, and together they round the last corner and come into a wide, well-lit hallway that has just the barest hint of a royal touch. Legolas stops in front of a rather plain-looking door and takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He has just raised his hand to knock when Prince Eldarion opens the door; his eyes—so like his father's—are sad. Legolas does not dare look past him to the King's bed.

"Uncle," Eldarion greets him quietly, inclining his head slightly. "My father has been waiting to see you. "The Elf suddenly finds himself unable to speak, beginning to panic again at the thought of seeing Aragorn—he forces himself to think it—dying. Gimli notices, and offers, "Prince Eldarion, I will see the King first." His gruff voice is unusually soft. The Prince, having noticed Legolas' panic as well, nods, and lets Gimli in, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door quietly behind him.

It is quiet in the hallway but for the sound of Legolas' abnormally heavy breathing. Elboron has excused himself to go tend to the horses. Eldarion, lounging against the wall opposite the door, watches the Elf with sorrow evident in his face. He knows how close the Elf and the King are, and his young heart aches with sympathy for the pain he knows Legolas will feel when Aragorn dies.

"My father loves you, you know," he says softly. Legolas looks up, his face sad. Eldarion hesitates slightly, choosing his next words carefully. "Can you guess what my father's last words to me were?" The Elf shakes his head, not trusting his voice yet. Eldarion goes on, "He wasn't sure if you would come. He told me, 'If Legolas does not come, ride to Ithilien when you can...and tell him I love him.' That was the last thing he said to me."

Legolas' midnight blue eyes sting with sudden tears, and he blinks them back. "Why?" he whispers when he finds his voice. "Why did he believe I would not come?" Eldarion shrugs. "My father told me long ago that you would have been afraid to see him on his deathbed."

The door opens quietly, and Gimli strides into the hallway. "He's asking for you, Legolas," he murmurs, his voice heavy with grief. Taking a deep breath, Legolas nods, and steps into the chamber. He closes the door behind him, and turns around slowly.

Aragorn's silvery-blue eyes are closed, his face unusually bright, colored with fever. He smiles when he hears the Elf enter the room. "Legolas," he says, his voice warm with affection. "Come here." Legolas crosses the room quickly, leaning down to brush his lips lightly across Aragorn's feverish forehead. When he pulls back, Aragorn opens his eyes, and reaches for Legolas' hand. "You came," he says, his smile evident in his voice.

Legolas smiles down at him, though his heart still feels much too heavy. "Of course I came, dearest," he teases lightly. "Why wouldn't I?" Aragorn's smile fades. "When I was younger you told me you never wanted to see me on my deathbed."

"That is still true," Legolas says after a moment of silence. "But I could not live with myself if you passed away without me being able to speak with you one last time." Aragorn nods in understanding, and briefly tightens his grip on Legolas' hand in wordless comfort. "Come lay down with me, mellon nîn," he says softly, patting the bedcovers with his free hand.

Legolas hesitates for a moment, but as he looks at Aragorn, the scene before his eyes changes, and Aragorn—Estel—is ten years old again, troubled by nightmares. Legolas blinks, and the scene shifts back. Gently, he pulls back the covers, and lays down beside Aragorn, breathing in his familiar smoky scent. "Mmm," sighs Aragorn, and his arms, warm with fever, wrap around his Elven best friend, who immediately burrows deeper into the embrace. "You feel so warm..." the man whispers. Legolas smiles into the simple tunic the man wears, moving his head so he can feel Aragorn's heartbeat under his ear.

They lie contentedly there for a few minutes. Legolas can feel Aragorn's chest rise and fall under him, and turns his face slightly, trying to memorize Aragorn's features.

"What's it like, being an Elf?" Aragorn whispers unexpectedly.

Legolas considers that for a moment. "Sometimes it's everything anyone could wish for...the speed, the senses, immortality..." Aragorn chuckles softly. "You've forgotten...the beauty, and the kindness," he murmurs. Legolas laughs in spite of himself. "Yes, I had forgotten." His expression turns serious again. "Sometimes it's a perfect life. But other times, even the blessings can become curses. Like immortality...it means you have to watch your mortal friends die...again...and again." He feels tears welling up in his eyes.

Aragorn brushes his cheek gently. "Lassë," he murmurs. "Do you remember what I told you when I was ten years old?" Legolas nods, the memory flashing before his eyes.

_The fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Two identical Noldor Elves occupied the chairs on either side of the fire. A fair-haired Sindar Elf lounged on the bed with a dark-haired Human child in his arms, listening intently to the story one of the twins was telling. Something in the story caught Estel's attention, and he asked Elladan excitedly if it was really true that Elves lived forever and never aged past adulthood. The older twin laughed, and nodded._

"_Forever young," Estel mused. "I want to be forever young," he declared suddenly, his silver eyes blinking innocently._

_Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances, their lilac eyes full of ancient sorrow. Legolas smiled down at the child in his arms, but his midnight eyes were sad as well. "Do you really want to live forever?" he asked gently._

"_Forever, or never," Estel said firmly._

"I have a different answer to your question, now," says Aragorn quietly, bringing Legolas back to the present. "And I think you already know what it is."

Legolas' tears spill over, and he closes his eyes. He feels Aragorn's arms tighten protectively around him, and a warm hand cups his cheek, gently brushing his tears away. Legolas trembles, weeping harder at the tenderness inherent in the man's gesture. "Please, Lassë, don't cry," Aragorn whispers, his voice pained.

"You are lying on your deathbed, and you ask me not to cry?" the Elf chokes out. He opens his eyes, looking up at Aragorn. The man's eyes are unbearably soft as he strokes Legolas' cheek tenderly. "Promise me one thing, gwador nîn," he murmurs.

"Anything," Legolas vows, his voice rough from the tears. Aragorn holds him tightly, brushing his lips across the Elf's forehead. "Promise me, Lassë, after I am gone, do not fade from grief. You have a chance at a better life after this one. I do not wish to take it away from you. Sail West."

"Valinor is no paradise for me, not without you, Estel," Legolas answers sadly. "I cannot promise you such a thing." Aragorn sighs, his own eyes sparkling with tears. "Saes, Legolas," he pleads quietly, his eyes scorching, but somehow still soft. The Elf feels almost trapped in that gaze, and his resolve weakens even as his guilt rises. "I...I promise, Estel," he whispers finally.

Aragorn smiles. "We will meet again, Lassë," he murmurs, letting his forehead rest against the Elf's. "But until then, namárië."

"I love you," Legolas chokes out, his throat thick with unshed tears. Aragorn lays back, closing his eyes, but his smile remains. "I know," he whispers.

As life leaves King Aragorn Elessar, it seems to the Sindar Elf that even the animals fall silent for a minute, mourning the passing of so great a man. Then a single bird bursts into song in the garden just outside the window, and Legolas recognizes the familiar song of the nightingale, melancholy as a dirge though it sounds to him now. **A nightingale for friendship and love, my Prince,** a very warm, very familiar voice whispers in his mind. **And when you hear sweet Philomel's song, think of me, and do not tarry long. **Legolas feels someone ruffling his hair affectionately, and remembers the feel of warm lips on his brow.

* * *

A/N: Wow...that almost made _me_ cry.

Translations:  
Namárië—farewell  
Mellon nîn—my friend  
Lassë—leaf (used in this story as Legolas' nickname)  
Gwador nîn—my brother  
Saes—please  
(I apologize if I got any of these wrong...they're mostly from other stories I've read.)

Any feedback is appreciated! If you liked it, I'm glad to hear that. If there's something you think I could—or should—have done better, I'd like to know that as well!


	3. 2 Gwanno

**Moirae  
**Chapter 2: Gwanno

A/N: Hi again! I apologize for any OOC-ness, but this is just what I thought might possibly have happened.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everything except the plot, Silmëlas, and Caralas. Lyrics ("Every now and then I fall apart...") are from the song "Total Eclipse of the Heart", sung by Glee.

* * *

The rain falls softly in the glades of Ithilien. Twilight cloaks the land in darkness. In the sky, a lone star twinkles brightly.

Gimli the Dwarf strides through the colony of the Wood-elves of Ithilien, frowning. Walking noiselessly a short distance behind him, Silmëlas, the colony's second-in-command, is deep in thought, his fair face troubled. They make an odd pair; under normal circumstances, the Elves would be amused. But today, their errand is urgent.

Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood and leader of the Ithilien Elves, is missing.

Gimli mutters another Dwarfish curse under his breath when another round of searching still yields no sign of the Elf. A year ago, or even three months ago, if Legolas had vanished for a day, no one would have thought twice about it. But since Aragorn had died, the Elf had become more and more withdrawn. Depressed. Gimli shudders at the thought. Though he will never admit it, he really does care about Legolas, and worries for him.

An Elf jumps out of the sentry tree a few meters ahead and runs to Gimli and Silmëlas. "Hir nîn," she says quickly, "There is someone down by the river. We think it is Prince Legolas." Silmëlas' brow creases in confusion. "Hannon lle, Caralas." She bows, and in the blink of an eye is back up the tree.

"Thank the Valar," Gimli grumbles. "I am going to _kill_ that Elf when I find him." He turns to see Silmëlas peering through the trees in the general direction of River Anduin. "You may not have to," the Elf says quietly, and starts running. "Hurry!" he calls back over his shoulder.

Gimli is out of breath by the time they reach the river, and very annoyed. However, all of it is forgotten when he catches sight of Legolas, kneeling on the riverbank. As Gimli watches, Legolas takes something out from under his cloak, turning it over and over in his hands. Then he raises it slightly, and the starlight glints off the Elvish designs set in the metal. A dagger.

The Dwarf is frozen as Legolas raises it higher, holding it too close to his chest. But Silmëlas is quicker, taking a flying leap down to the river level. "Ernil nîn!" He knocks the dagger out of Legolas' hands, and holds him down firmly. Dull blue eyes stare up at the older Elf, confused. Then realization dawns, and he begins to weep. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I promised...I'm so sorry..." Silmëlas holds him close, comforting the young Elf. He looks at Gimli over Legolas' shoulder, and his caramel eyes are filled with grief.

* * *

_**Gimli's journal, 8th day of Lothron, F.O. 120, Ithilien**_

I hate to admit it, but I'm afraid.

Legolas tried to kill himself today. He's still hurting from Aragorn's death—I know they were very close for over two hundred years. But even so, everyone thought he was getting better. For the past few days he's been acting more like he used to be.

He's sleeping now...after crying for about an hour. He kept saying something about a promise—I think Aragorn made him promise not to die of grief. They probably both knew it would be near impossible for him to keep that promise.

Silmëlas has advised me to sail to Valinor with him. He says he believes Legolas can heal in the Undying Lands. I suppose it's worth a try. Aragorn's brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, are coming as well. After all, Legolas is their only tie left to Middle-earth.

It seems Elrohir inherited some of his father's foresight, for he had a vision of Aragorn dying. He and his brother arrived in Minas Tirith the day after Aragorn died. They were delayed for a day in the Misty Mountains—if they hadn't, they would have arrived in time.

At least they were able to be there for the funeral. Aragorn was given a grand funeral—only right for a man like him. He rarely ever despaired, even under the Shadow, and brought hope to everyone who knew him. Prince—I mean, King Eldarion spoke to the people of Minas Tirith before Aragorn's body was carried to Rath Dínen, to be set in the House of Kings.

I saw him when the funeral procession passed by. He could have been only sleeping—his hands were folded on his chest, clasping a flower from the White Tree. There was still a small smile on his face—no doubt because Legolas had been the last person he saw. On his brow rested the Star of the Dúnedain, with a circlet that signified his status as their chieftain. He wore his typical Ranger clothes—he didn't want to be buried as a King.

Legolas didn't come to the funeral. Nobody asked why. I think we all came to the same conclusion: the grief would have been too much for his delicate Elven heart, made even more fragile by the love he had borne—still bore—this mortal.

* * *

_Every now and then I fall apart. And I need you now tonight, and I need you more than ever. And if you only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever. _

* * *

Elrohir watches the now-sleeping Legolas with sadness etched in the lines of his handsome face. Every so often, the younger Elf jerks in his sleep, and Elrohir almost rises from his chair, only to hear Legolas cry out for the only person whose name he ever calls in his sleep. Then he is quiet again.

Just before the sun rises, Legolas stirs, and his eyes open, focusing on the only other person in the room. 'Elrohir,' he mouths, and the Noldor Elf rises from his chair, walking over to sit on Legolas' bed. "Elrohir," the Wood-elf whispers. "I heard you talking to Gimli...about sailing to Valinor."

Elrohir hesitates, before nodding. Legolas sighs, and closed his eyes. "Were you planning to lie to me about that?" he asks, his voice unusually bitter. "No, Legolas, we were going to tell you," Elrohir says, but his voice sounds feeble even to his own ears. Legolas smiles, but there is no humor in his dull eyes when he opens them. "After you drugged me to get me on the ship?"

"Please, Legolas," Elrohir begs, unable to look at the lifelessness in those blue eyes. "You know we would never." Something clears in Legolas' expression, and a single tear rolls down his cheek; Elrohir catches it. "I'm sorry," Legolas whispers. "I know it's a horrible excuse, but I haven't felt...really alive...since he died." The last three words are little more than a breath, but Elrohir hears, and understands.

"It's all right, tithen pen," he says gently. "We...Dan and I, and Gimli as well...we miss him, very much. But I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must be for you...you were so much closer to him than even Dan and I were." Legolas lays quietly, contemplating something. Then he speaks. "I will sail with you and Dan and Gimli." Elrohir shoots him a surprised look. "I promised him," Legolas explains quietly. "I will go. But I want to visit Minas Tirith...one last time."

* * *

"Memory," Elladan calls out clearly to the guards at the First Gate, and they let the Elves pass.

The horses climb up the winding road, and Legolas tries not to think about the last time he rode up this same path. He focuses instead on the reason he has come here one last time. If he can't be with him (even now he is careful not to even think the name), at least something to remember him by—something of home—will suffice for the meantime. Imladris is too far away, but Gondor is by now as much their home as Imladris had been.

The horses stop in the courtyard of the White Tree. "Tend to the horses," Legolas murmurs to Elladan. "I wish to go back alone." Elladan nods. He has the Sindar Elf's word that he won't try to take his own life again, and doesn't worry about that.

Legolas fights to keep himself in the present moment only as Elladan disappears into the tunnel that leads to the stables. The music of the fountain's water is soothing to the young Elven prince as he reaches out and lets the cool water run over his fingers. Then he turns to the majestic White Tree, the symbol of Gondor, which stands beside the fountain. Dipping his head respectfully, he reaches up and picks one of the most beautiful flowers from the top of the tree.

He tucks the white blossom into his cloak and sets off towards the right, the way to the King's chambers. He doesn't dare set foot inside the building, though, and walks along the back hedge until he finds what he is looking for: a door set halfway into the bushes. He takes a silver key from his pocket, and unlocks the door.

The King's garden is exactly as he remembers it. He shakes off the onslaught of memories—of laughter enjoyed, of tears spent in this garden—and walks towards the western corner, where the brightly-colored, fragrant flowers they both so loved usually grow in a patch of sunlight. He kneels down by the withered stalks, his hand trailing lightly over a single blossom miraculously blooming out of season. **Chrysanthemums represent friendship and love,** a familiar baritone voice chuckles in his mind.

**I will wait for you until the circles of this world are thrown down,** Legolas tells him. **Then we will truly be together forever.** The man's still-bell-like laugh echoes in his mind as the Elf picks the flower. He steps back into the courtyard of the White Tree just as Elladan walks out of the tunnel, leading the horses. Legolas joins him, swinging himself onto Hasufel.

"I am ready."

* * *

A/N: ...Or is he? :)

Translations:  
Gwanno—departure  
Silmëlas—silver leaf (the name of Legolas' second-in-command; a mix of Quenya and Sindarin)  
Hir nîn—my lord  
Hannon lle—thank you  
Caralas—red leaf (the name of a sentry Elf)  
Ernil nîn—my prince  
Lothron—May (month of)  
Tithen pen—little one

Again, please review! Any feedback welcome.


	4. 3 Rîn

**Moirae  
**Chapter 3: Rîn

* * *

_Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight._

**_Excerpt from Elrohir's journal, 27th day of Lothron, F.O. 120, at sea_**

I wish life was like it was before.

Legolas is so quiet now. He never laughs, or even smiles. His eyes are haunted and dull. I can hear him crying himself to sleep almost every night. Elves technically don't need to sleep, but I suppose it's a human habit Legolas picked up from Aragorn.

Ai, Elbereth...Aragorn...Legolas still grieves for him—as he likely will for the rest of his life. I heard from Gimli that Aragorn forced Legolas to promise him that he wouldn't die of grief. I doubt that's even possible—Aragorn holds Legolas' heart. But then again, Legolas would never break a promise he made to Aragorn.

* * *

The grey ship glides through the calm, glassy waters. Stars spatter the indigo sky, like thousands of glittering eyes.

A dark-haired Elf paces restlessly along the deck. His movements are watched with amusement by the others on deck except for one, who stands perfectly still at the stern. "Ro," Elladan finally calls. "Relax! Come sit." He gestures to a spot next to him and Gimli, who is puffing away at his pipe. "You too, Legolas," the Dwarf adds. Legolas relaxes his statue-like posture and walks over to sit by the other three.

Gimli pulls his pipe out of his mouth, tapping it against the floor. "I was just wondering..." he begins, then stops, suddenly flushing with embarrassment. Elladan picks up smoothly. "He was wondering how Legolas met our little Estel, and I told him it would be better if we all told the story." He pauses, glancing at Legolas. "If that's all right with you?" The Wood-elf nods, after a moment of thought.

Elrohir speaks first. "The summer after Estel turned seven, Legolas returned to Imladris after almost ten years away..."

_A riderless black mare thundered into the courtyard of the Last Homely House and headed straight for the two dark-haired elves sparring in a corner, watched by a young human child._

_Elrohir swung around. "Whoa, horsie," he called warily, backing away as the horse came closer. The mare skidded to a halt barely an inch from the point of his sword. She neighed, and pawed at the ground impatiently, a saddlebag swinging against her side. _

_Elladan frowned, confused. "Ro, that's Legolas' horse." Elrohir shot an incredulous look at his twin. He walked around the horse, giving her hooves a wide berth. Legolas' horse was known to turn into a demon when she was irritated, as she clearly was now._

_The elf reached into the saddlebag and pulled out a slip of parchment. "Dan, listen to this. 'Dan, Ro, Come back and find me. I'm somewhere on the road down to Imladris. Beware of orcs. Legolas.'" The words were messy, almost illegible, but still Elrohir could tell Legolas had written it—in terrible haste. "Legolas is in trouble. There's...there's blood on the note. Red and black."_

_Elladan nodded, his face grim, and turned to the human child. "Estel, go to the stables, and send my horse out with whichever elf is nearest. And tell Ada to be ready to treat possible injuries—tell him it's orc poison." The child nodded, his eyes wide and frightened, and rushed off as fast as his legs could carry him, shouting for Lord Elrond on the way._

_Elrohir had already swung himself onto the horse. He helped Elladan up behind him, and spurred the mare into a gallop again, taking the only road that wound up out of the valley. As they rounded the last turn, the horse shied back, nearly throwing them. The twins grimaced as the stench of orcs filled the air. Elrohir kept a hand over his nose and mouth as he nudged the horse forward; Elladan tried not to breathe through his nose, and surveyed the scene of battle._

_Dead orcs were strewn about on the road, yellow-fletched arrows protruding from their bodies, as Elladan noticed with a grim smile. Then he saw the trail of red blood that led off the road. "Ro," he whispered, pointing out the blood. "Over there." Elrohir's heart pounded in his throat as he carefully turned the mare off the road. Elladan gasped._

_Legolas lay sprawled facedown on the ground, his long golden hair matted with blood. Elladan jumped off the horse and gently turned the young elf over. The familiar midnight blue eyes were closed, and his skin was deathly pale. Elladan looked him over quickly, noting the puncture wounds near his stomach and the broken orc arrows that lay a short distance away. Legolas' left leg was twisted at an awkward angle, as was his wrist._

_A horse whinnied from the road, and Elladan heard Elrohir talking quietly with another elf—Glorfindel, it sounded like. Elladan scooped Legolas into his arms, careful of his injuries, and walked the short distance back to the road. Elrohir, astride Elladan's horse, held Legolas firmly, to prevent him from falling off, as Elladan sent his horse off. Glorfindel helped the older twin onto the black mare, and they rode back to Imladris at a slower pace; the mare was obviously in need of a few days' rest._

.:.

_Legolas opened his eyes to a vaguely unfamiliar room. He tried to sit up, and groaned at the pain that flared in his lower body. There was the sound of light feet, and then a dark, tousled head came into his line of vision. "Be still," the child whispered in perfect Sindarin. "I will bring the twins." Then he was gone. Confused, Legolas looked around what he could of the room. He assumed he was in Imladris...but then who was the child? He hadn't known another Elfling had been born in Arda._

_His thoughts were interrupted when Elladan walked into the room, followed by—Legolas assumed—the child. The older twin smiled when he saw that Legolas was awake, and helped Legolas sit up. "How are you feeling, tithen pen?" Legolas shrugged, and winced. "So...what's the verdict?"_

_To his surprise, the child climbed onto his bed, and answered for Elladan, who was brewing some herbal tea in the back of the room. "You have a broken leg, a broken wrist, and you took two arrows to your stomach." He paused, then added, "Oh, and the arrows were poisoned, but Ada gave you some medicine for that already. Right, Dan?"_

_Elladan chuckled. "Yes, Estel." He came to Legolas' bedside and offered the young Elf a cup of warm tea, which was gratefully accepted. "Estel wants to be a healer. Ada is teaching him in his spare time," Elladan told Legolas. The Sindar Elf watched the young boy as he sipped the tea. Estel stared back at him, his cherubic face framed by soft curls. _

"_You're pretty," he said unexpectedly._

_Elladan snickered. "Yes, he's absolutely gorgeous," he agreed brightly, ignoring the exasperated look Legolas threw him. Estel's face fell when he heard the sarcasm in his oldest brother's voice, his lower lip pushing out in a pout. Legolas smiled softly at him, reaching out cautiously and taking his hand. "Don't listen to Dan. He's just jealous." Estel laughed, a sound like bells, and crawled closer to Legolas, resting his head on the Elf's shoulder._

_The Noldor Elf scoffed, but his eyes danced with amusement. "Jealous? Of what?" Legolas grinned easily back at him, Estel's body warm against his own. "You can't fool me. Admit it. You're jealous."_

_Elrohir stepped into the room then, grinning at their light banter. "Mae govannen, Legolas. How are you?"_

_Legolas smirked. "Ill enough. And you?" Elrohir laughed. "Well enough. Estel," he added. "Ada wants to speak with you." The boy nodded, and hopped off the bed. He turned back to Legolas and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. The twins swallowed their laughter as Estel scampered out of the room._

_The second Estel was out of earshot, the twins burst out laughing. But Legolas was staring at the door still, remembering Estel's kiss, his fingertips unconsciously resting against his cheek. Finally, the twins' laughter subsided enough for Elrohir to ask, "Are you all right, Legolas?"_

_Legolas looked at him and Elladan. "Who is he? And why is he named Hope?" he demanded quietly. Elladan's face was somber again as he responded. "He is our brother." Legolas gaped at them. When Estel had run out of the room, his hair had swung back, exposing his clearly-not-Elven ears."But...but he's...Human!" he stammered. Elrohir answered, "That does not make him any less our brother. And he is named Hope because he is the Hope of Mankind."_

.:.

"_How are you feeling, Legolas?" Lord Elrond asked when he came in to check on Legolas that afternoon. The younger Elf shrugged. "Better, hannon lle." Elrond nodded, taking down fresh herbs from the shelf. "What happened? How were you hurt so badly?"_

_Legolas grimaced. "Yrch," he whispered. "They ambushed me on the borders of the valley. I was knocked off the horse and injured too badly to ride on. I sent the horse on ahead with a message, to try to get help."_

_Elrond was shocked. "An orc ambush on the very borders of Imladris…that must be taken care of…" he muttered, half to himself._

"_Lord Elrond," said Legolas quietly, his face thoughtful. "I've met your youngest son...Estel. And I was just wondering...who is he? I asked the twins, but they only told me he is the Hope of Mankind." Elrond nodded, coming to sit by Legolas' bedside. He began to unwrap the young Elf's bandages as he spoke. "What have you noticed about Estel?"_

_Legolas thought about the child for a moment. "Well..." he started hesitantly. "He...is Human, but he looks vaguely familiar. Almost like..." he stopped. The lord of Imladris looked up at him, his dark eyes curious, and gestured for the younger Elf to continue. Legolas fidgeted, suddenly embarrassed. "Well...he looks slightly like Dan and Ro...and like you." _

_To his surprise, Elrond didn't laugh, just nodded and began packing the fresh herbs into the Wood-elf's wounds. "You see much, Legolas Thranduilion. He doesn't look exactly like the twins, because they partly resemble their mother. But Estel does not look like me either. He resembles my brother."_

"_Your brother?" Legolas asked, confused. Then he understood. "Elros!" Elrond smiled sadly. "But...but I thought that line was broken long ago," Legolas stammered. Elrond shook his head, his nimble fingers gently rewrapping the bandages. "The line of the Kings of Gondor has been broken, but the line of Númenor still runs true in the blood of the Dúnedain, the Rangers of the North, descendants of the Kings of Arnor. They have chosen exile; none wish to step forward and claim the throne of Gondor. But it has been foretold that Aragorn, son of Arathorn—Estel, the Hope of Mankind—will bring peace. When he wears the winged crown of Eärnur, the realms in exile will be restored, and Arda shall have peace again."_

"Why didn't Estel—" Gimli stumbles slightly over the unfamiliar name—"know who he really was?"

"His father was killed when Estel was only two years old," says Elladan. "His mother was afraid that he would be attacked as well. She brought him to Imladris, and died not long after Ada—Elrond—agreed to raise him and keep his true identity secret from him until he was old enough."

"He was orphaned at _two years old_?" Gimli asks, shocked. Elrohir nods. "He was never consciously unhappy while he was with us—he loved the Elves of Imladris like they were his real family. But he often had nightmares about his parents." He shudders. "It was horrible. He used to sleep in mine and Dan's room, and half the time he woke up screaming."

Legolas frowns, confused. "I don't remember that ever happening." Elladan chuckles in spite of the serious topic. "That's because when you were in Imladris, it never happened." Gimli smiles. "So Lord Elrond and Estel weren't the only healers in Rivendell."

"No," Elrohir agrees, smiling. "Legolas, you probably don't remember, but the very first night after you met Estel, he managed to sneak out of our room and went to go sleep with you." Elladan laughs at the memory. "We had left the room for a minute, and when we came back, he had disappeared. Everyone was out looking for him, and Erestor found him curled up on Legolas' bed, sleeping more soundly and peacefully than he had since he came to Imladris."

Legolas half-smiles. "I didn't know that. But it's no wonder he kept insisting on sharing my bed." He pauses for a moment. "Well, actually, he never had to _insist_," he amends. "I don't think anyone could refuse him anything." The others laugh softly, even Gimli, who has always said he can't imagine Aragorn any younger than he had been when they met at the Council of Elrond.

"Imladris became like a second home to Legolas," Elrohir says, chuckling. "Before he met Estel, he only came to Imladris once a year at the very most." Elladan grins. "But after he met Estel, he all but lived with us, and only returned to Mirkwood when it was absolutely necessary." The soft sound of laughter fills the air again.

A pair of dolphins arc gracefully through the clear water, and leap into the air, chirping excitedly.

* * *

A/N: Dolphins represent friendship in Celtic culture.

Translations:  
Rîn—remembrance  
Lothron—May (month of)  
Ai, Elbereth—Oh, Elbereth (roughly, oh God)  
Tithen pen—little one  
Mae govannen—well met; or, hello  
Hannon lle—thank you  
Yrch—orcs

Reviews make my day!


	5. 4 Elei

**Moirae  
**Chapter 4: Elei

* * *

_Legolas shifted in his bonds, trying to take his weight off his injured leg, and winced as the movement pulled at the fresh whip-cuts on his back._

_He had been out scouting with Aragorn in the depths of Mirkwood when they had been attacked by orcs. He remembered shouting for Aragorn to run. The man had hesitated, his expression torn, before turning and disappearing into the trees. The orcs had quickly overpowered him alone, and threatened to go after Aragorn if Legolas didn't stop struggling. After they had 'had their fun with him', as they put it, they more or less left the injured Elf alone as he ran over possible escape methods in his mind._

_Suddenly, he felt a dim awareness flare in his mind, and groaned silently. **Estel, baw!** he shouted, trying to mask his own presence. Over the years, the two friends had grown so close that they could feel each other's presence, and whether or not they were in danger. It proved helpful at times, but this was not one of them. Aragorn wasn't fooled, and Legolas felt the man's light growing stronger as he came closer. **You're going to get yourself killed!** At Aragorn's indifferent reaction, Legolas sighed. **I don't recall you being this stubborn sixteen years ago,** he thought, frustrated. Aragorn smiled. **I was only seven then...too young.**_

_His long fingers quickly untied the ropes binding Legolas to the tree, and the Elf staggered, his injured leg burning with pain. **Can you walk? **Aragorn asked silently. **I left the horse back there.** Legolas bit his lip, and nodded. Aragorn looked skeptical, but let it pass. They began inching around the small clearing. Just at that moment, one of the orcs looked up, and spotted them. He shouted something in a harsh language, and a black-fletched arrow flew past them. Aragorn grabbed Legolas' hand. "Run!" he hissed, pulling Legolas faster._

_The orc's bow twanged again, and Legolas heard the arrow flying through the air a split second before it pierced his back. He heard a scream of pain as he crumpled to the ground and, with a shock, realized it was his. Aragorn dropped to his knees by Legolas' still form, his eyes horrified as the crimson stain spread too-quickly, soaking the back of Legolas' shirt. "Estel...I'm sorry," Legolas gasped out, his breathing becoming shallower._

"_No..." Aragorn whispered. "You're not going to die. Not here, not now. I won't let you." Throwing aside years of Ranger training, he picked Legolas up in his arms, and ran. More orc arrows flew by, some of them leaving shallow cuts on Aragorn's arms. Legolas dimly felt Aragorn twitch slightly when one arrow found its mark in Aragorn's shoulder, but he kept running until they reached the place where Aragorn had left the horse._

_Gently lowering Legolas to the ground, he reached for the arrow in Legolas' back, pulling at it slightly. Legolas cried out, and Aragorn cursed silently. The arrow was barbed. "I'm going to try to push it through," he told the Elf quietly. He felt more than saw Legolas nod slightly, and grasped the arrow shaft tightly._

_Legolas screamed, and Aragorn heard the orcs following them turn in their direction. Quickly, he broke off the arrowhead and pulled the shaft out. Reaching back, he untied the charm he wore, and fastened it around Legolas' neck. Pressing both hands to the wound in an effort to stop the blood flow, he mounted the horse and, controlling it by voice alone, directed it back to the palace._

.:.

_King Thranduil was waiting for them at the palace gate. His brown eyes narrowed when Aragorn came into sight, Legolas lying limp in his arms._

_Aragorn dismounted awkwardly, keeping his hands pressed to Legolas' body. He walked closer, and Thranduil saw the bloodstains on his son's shirt. Aragorn bowed his head respectfully, but his silvery-blue eyes were wild with panic. He murmured something to the King that Legolas couldn't make out through the ringing in his ears._

"_How dare you come back with my son's blood staining your hands?" Thranduil shouted at Aragorn, and Legolas whimpered, cringing into Aragorn's chest. The man shifted the Elf carefully in his arms, holding him tighter. "Shh, Lassë, it's all right."_

_For some reason, that made Thranduil angrier. "Don't you touch him," he fairly growled. Aragorn loosened his grip on Legolas, and the Elf panicked, clinging to the man's shirt with what little strength he had left. A single tear trailed down Aragorn's face and landed on Legolas' lips. "I'm sorry," Aragorn murmured. Legolas' world spun dizzyingly, and he fell into darkness. The last thing he felt was Aragorn's warm hands prying his fingers loose from his shirt._

.:.

_Legolas' eyes fluttered open, and closed immediately against the sunlight streaming in through the window. He heard someone leap lightly to his feet, and the distinctive sound of a curtain being closed. Cautiously, he opened his eyes again, and his gaze focused on the Elf sitting at his bedside. "Lasslîn!" he whispered, recognizing Mirkwood's chief Healer._

_Lasslîn smiled tiredly, his emerald eyes shadowed with sorrow. "It is good to see you awake finally, ernil nîn." Legolas grimaced. "How long was I unconscious?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Three days," came the quiet reply. The Healer took a shuddering breath, then continued, "We thought we were going to lose you at first...we couldn't stop the bleeding. Then that charm," he gestured towards the pendant around Legolas' neck, "started glowing, and the wound seemed to close itself. I've never seen anything like it."_

_Legolas touched the charm gingerly, and he thought he could feel a sense of warmth emanating from it. A dim memory resurfaced, one of Aragorn's fingers brushing against his throat as he quickly tied something around Legolas' neck. "Where is Aragorn?" he demanded softly. "Is he all right?" Lasslîn sighed heavily. "Ernil nîn, I'm sorry...you would have found out eventually. Your adar forbade Aragorn from entering Mirkwood...and you from leaving."_

.:.

_Aragorn urged his weary horse onward, murmuring reassuringly to it. He rode through the eastern gate, spotting his adoptive father on the other side of the courtyard. Slipping—nearly falling—off the horse, he managed to call out, "Ada!" before he collapsed._

_He woke up in the healing rooms a day later. Elrond watched him sadly from the corner. "Aragorn," he murmured. "Where is your charm necklace?" The man briefly touched his throat, where the pendant usually rested. "I gave it to Legolas." Elrond gaped at him, his expression quickly darkening with fury. "Why?" he whispered, his voice rising as he went on. "What if you had been attacked on your way back? What if—"_

_Aragorn cut him off. "Ada, Legolas was _dying_," he said, trying to make him understand. Elrond remained furious. "What would you have done if it had been Elros?" the man cried out despairingly. The angry color drained from the Elf-lord's face, replaced by a pallor that looked sickly even on an Elf. Aragorn plunged on recklessly. "What if it had been Celebrían?" He almost didn't notice the tears in his Ada's dark eyes at the mention of his wife._

"_You are right, Aragorn," he murmured finally. "I am sorry."_

.:.

"_Ada," Elladan called softly one day, a month later. "May we speak with you, please?" Surprised, Elrond nodded, and ducked into the twins' room. Elrohir was sitting on the bed, his face worried._

_Elladan closed the door, then turned to his father. "We're worried about Aragorn, Ada," he said in a whisper. "He won't—or can't—eat or sleep," Elrohir explained. Elrond looked down at the floor. "Yes, I have seen that." He shook his head, exasperated, as he continued, "What Thranduil was thinking, I will never know." Elladan bit his lip in worry. "Will you speak with King Thranduil?" he asked. "Saes, Ada," Elrohir added. Elrond moved to clasp his sons' hands in his own._

"_I will."_

.:.

Under the starry skies, where eagles have flown, this place is paradise—it's the place I call home.

.:.

_King Thranduil watched the Elf-and-Human pair from his hiding place in the higher branches of an aspen, smiling slightly when Aragorn splashed cold water at Legolas, making him shriek in surprise. _

"_Mae govannen, Thranduil," came a melodious voice from below, and the Sindar Elf looked down to see Lord Elrond lightly leaping from branch to higher branch, completely at ease in his own woods. Soon, he leaped onto the branch Thranduil was sitting on, perching himself precariously on it. They watched the two friends in silence for a little while longer. Then Thranduil spoke, and his voice was heavy with regret. "I see now that I was wrong about your son, and I am sorry I caused him—and you—so much pain."_

_Elrond smiled brightly at his long-time friend. "'Tis not I you should be apologizing to, but Aragorn." Then he turned serious again. "Forgive me for asking, but what finally made you agree to repeal the order?" Thranduil looked at the ground. "It was...Legolas." Elrond raised an eyebrow. Thranduil took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. "He was...I don't know, dying, or something like it. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep. I could see him growing weaker every day, and I finally realized what it was that he was missing."_

_Elrond nodded. "It was the same with Aragorn. That was why I finally rode to Mirkwood and asked you to relent." He cocked his head to the side curiously. "W__hy _did _you forbid them from seeing each other in the first place?" _

_Thranduil sighed. "When Aragorn brought Legolas back, dying in his arms, I was afraid I would lose Legolas like I did his mother. You know, it wasn't the first time that happened," he added, glancing meaningfully at Elrond, who nodded, remembering the many times Legolas had been injured while he had been with Aragorn. "I thought Aragorn was dangerous," Thranduil confessed. "I didn't trust him to keep my son safe."_

_To Thranduil's surprise, Elrond smiled again. "Did you notice a charm around Legolas' neck?" Confused, Thranduil nodded, remembering the pearly-white charm the Healers said had saved the young Elf's life. Elrond went on, "I made that charm, and the Istari helped give it some of my power to heal. It was meant to work only for the original owner, but it seems Legolas has enough of Aragorn's spirit in him for the charm to work for him as well."_

_Thranduil was speechless. "Aragorn...gave Legolas the charm?" he finally managed. Elrond nodded. "He saved your son's life." The King was still shocked, his thoughts spinning wildly. _

_Suddenly, Elrond laughed, a clear, rippling sound. "If you still have doubts, mellon nîn, just look at them," he chuckled, gesturing towards the pair. Thranduil's gaze followed his gesture, and he laughed as well when Aragorn playfully tackled Legolas to the ground. He leaned in to kiss Legolas' forehead, as the Elf halfheartedly tried not to surrender to Aragorn's advances. The sound of their mingled laughter drifted up to the older Elves._

"_They are closer than friends. Nay, they are closer than brothers. Aragorn loves Legolas more than his own life," Elrond murmured, and Thranduil couldn't disagree as Elrond continued. "Neither can survive without the other. My son would sacrifice anything—_everything_—to save Legolas. And you know how dangerous that is, in the man of the prophecy," he added grimly. "Aragorn knows that as well, but he does not care."_

* * *

Legolas opens his eyes to the familiar darkness inside his cabin. He lays a hand to his cheek, feeling tears still streaming silently down his face. Briefly, he tries to grasp the dream that is already slipping away, but all he can remember is Aragorn raging at Elrond—"What would you have done if it had been Elros? What if it had been Celebrían?"—and Elrond's quiet murmur to Thranduil in a sun-filled forest. "Aragorn loves Legolas more than his own life. Neither can survive without the other."

The Wood-elf tries to push away the grief threatening to suffocate him, but unbidden, inexplicably, another memory comes back to him.

"_Estel! Im gosta...I was so scared...I thought I'd lost you."_

"_Lassë, I will always be with you."_

"_No...someday I will lose you forever."_

"_Then I will still be with you—here, in your heart."_

"_Le meleth."_

"_We will be together forever."_

Those words, spoken in the fortress of Rohan over a hundred years ago, remain in Legolas' mind as he slowly drifts off to sleep again.

* * *

A/N: I think I like this chapter the best. Please read and review!

Translations:  
Elei – dream  
Estel, baw!—Aragorn, no! (literally, 'Hope, no')  
Lassë - leaf (used in this story as Legolas' nickname)  
Lasslîn - leaf-pool (Mirkwood's chief Healer; name taken from Warriors series by Erin Hunter)  
Ernil nîn - my prince  
Adar - father  
Ada - papa  
Saes - please  
Mae govannen - Well met; or, hello  
Mellon nîn - my friend  
Im gosta - I was afraid  
Le meleth - I love you


	6. 5 Aderthad

**Moirae  
**Chapter 5: Aderthad

* * *

A/N: **IMPORTANT-please read!** It's up to you to decide if this is a slash story or not, but just a warning: there are guys kissing on the lips in this chapter. It's nothing romantic, in all honesty, but if you don't like that kind of stuff, skip that part, and please do not flame me for it. You've been warned!

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everything but the plot. Lyrics ("They say Mother Earth...") are from the song "Ireland" by Garth Brooks.

* * *

The fresh sea breeze drifts in from the northwest, carrying with it a slight salty tang. Elladan breathes deeply, shading his eyes to look at the rising sun. Nimbly, he climbs up to the top of the mast, effortlessly clinging to the rigging. Legolas normally would be the one climbing—after all, he was practically raised in a tree—but he has not set foot on deck for the past few days. Elladan suspects that he is unwilling to let go of Arda so easily.

"Elladan!" Gimli calls up to him from the deck, interrupting his own cheerful whistling. "What do your Elf-eyes see?" The Noldor Elf slides down the ropes just as his twin comes up from below. "We will be in Tol Eressëa by noon," he tells them, smiling.

* * *

Legolas lays on his bunk, staring listlessly up at the ceiling. Scattered fragments of memories whirl through his mind, of a dark-haired, bright-eyed child growing into a strong, proud warrior and back again. They are accompanied, as always, by the pain that seems to be his heart's constant companion these days.

He winces as a particularly bittersweet memory makes his chest throb painfully.

"_Legolas!"_

_Estel's shout, filled with mock anger, broke the afternoon quiet. The Sindar Elf laughed, and darted further into the trees, sidestepping rocks and fallen logs effortlessly. Estel growled playfully, and chased after him._

_Legolas chuckled to himself as he recalled the prank he had played on his sixteen-year-old best friend. Everyone (in Imladris, at least) knew Estel was terrified of snakes, so that morning Legolas had caught a harmless garden snake, and hid it in Estel's room while the Human was at archery practice. When Estel had found the snake, evidently he had kept his head and realized it wouldn't hurt him—which was why Legolas now found himself being chased by an "only-just-playing" Estel. The Elf could hear the man gaining on him, and ran a little faster._

_Suddenly, a warm body slammed into him from behind, and Estel's teeth grazed the back of his neck as the two friends fell to the forest floor. Warm arms wrapped around Legolas, holding him tightly; he was barely jostled when he hit the ground. Estel mock-wrestled him when he managed to struggle his way out of the cage of Estel's arms. Leaves quickly caught in the two friends' long hair._

_Finally, Estel pinned Legolas to the ground, tossing his head back triumphantly. "Caught you," he said, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his friend's lips. Legolas smirked, letting his body go limp in surrender. Estel grinned, and loosened his grip. In a blindingly-fast movement, Legolas jerked his body up, throwing Estel off. Then he flipped over, pinning the man to the ground, grinning from ear to ear. "Elves are very hard to catch, tithen pen."_

_Estel laughed, his fingers tangling in Legolas' long golden hair as he pulled himself up to a sitting position, Legolas sprawled ungracefully across his legs. "I caught you, nine years ago," he reminded Legolas, smiling softly. "I caught your heart." Legolas twisted slightly in Estel's arms, breathing in his familiar scent. "Yes, you mischievous little angel," he murmured, his voice catching slightly._

Legolas is shocked to find tears running down his face. Angrily, he swipes at his eyes, frustrated at his own weakness. **Why must I live like this?** **Why can I not forget? **he asks the empty air. His only answer is the soft sound of bell-like laughter. In his mind's eye, he sees a silver-eyed child darting away from him, scampering up a tree like a squirrel. "Come catch me, Lassë," he calls in his high, sweet voice, giggling when Legolas races up the tree after him.

Legolas shakes his head, forcing the memory away. He can't help but search for Aragorn's presence in his mind, futile though he knows the effort is. He remembers the ripping sensation he felt when Aragorn's light was torn away from him, and shivers slightly. Then he sighs, and focuses on the voices he can hear above deck. Gimli is whistling a cheerful Dwarfish tune as he watches the seas. "Elladan!" he calls, breaking off in the middle of the song. "What do your Elf-eyes see?" There is the sound of Elladan landing lightly on the deck. "We will be in Tol Eressëa by noon," Elladan says, and Legolas can hear his smile in his voice.

* * *

Elrond is waiting for them at the docks.

While Gimli ties down the ship, Elladan and Elrohir all but throw themselves at their father, talking excitedly. Legolas hangs back, forcing himself to be calm. Elrond notices him, and beckons for him to come. Legolas kneels before Elrond, bowing his head respectfully. "Hir nîn," he murmurs. The older Elf clasps Legolas' upper arms, drawing him upright. "That is not necessary, Legolas," he says. "I cannot thank you enough." Then, to Legolas' (and the twins') great surprise, Elrond pulls him into a fierce embrace. "H-hir nîn?" Legolas stammers. "I...I do not understand."

Elrond pulls back to look at him, his eyes sparkling with tears of joy. He smiles at the Wood-elf, and half-turns to beckon to someone in the shadows of the trees. "Estel," he calls, and Legolas feels the familiar flash of pain stab his chest at the name. "Come here." A dark figure detaches itself from the shadows and walks towards them with a stride as graceful as any Elf's. His hood throws his face into shadow, but as Legolas watches, he thinks he can detect something strangely familiar in that walk.

The figure stops just behind Elrond, and throws his hood back.

The next thing Legolas knows, he is lying on the warm sand, staring up at an infinitely familiar face. Aragorn—Estel—smiles down at him, looking exactly the same as he had when he had been crowned King of Gondor. Several different emotions flash across his face by turns, until he settles on amusement. "Legolas, I know I'm good-looking," he starts, chuckling when Legolas rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. "But that's no reason to go and faint on me."

Legolas just smiles, lifting his hand to touch Estel's cheek lightly, as if uncertain that he is truly there. Estel lays his hand over Legolas', keeping it to his face. He leans down slightly to press a kiss to Legolas' brow, and the Elf closes his eyes, finding himself crying again. But this time, they are tears of joy.

He is home.

* * *

_They say Mother Earth is breathing, with each wave that finds the shore..._

The waves crash onto the white beach like the pulse of a living creature. The full moon shines brightly, casting a silver light over the peaceful isle. It illuminates a fair figure standing on a balcony, watching the stars. His golden hair, free of its customary braid, cascades over his shoulders like a silken waterfall. He is singing an old Shire folk song quietly to himself.

Another figure enters the room, holding something lightly in his hands. Without turning around, Legolas smiles. "Mae govannen, Estel." Estel chuckles, walking over to him and wrapping his arms around the Elf's waist. "How did you know it was me?" Legolas tips his head back to look at Estel. "Well," he starts, "you don't walk as lightly as the other Elves, but more lightly than Gimli and the hobbits." The two friends can't feel each other anymore; Lord Elrond thinks it is because a bond like theirs is unnecessary in the Undying Lands.

Estel smiles down at his best friend, but his eyes are sad. "Lassë," he whispers. "I found this with your bow and arrows." He opens his hand to show Legolas two dried, slightly crumpled flowers, one a pure white, one a fiery orange.

Legolas reaches out and lightly brushes his hand over the flowers. "I thought I would not see you again until the world ended." His voice is heavy with remembered grief. "I wanted something to remember you by...I took these flowers from Minas Tirith." He turns slightly to face Estel. "Speaking of which, why _are_ you here? I mean, mortals weren't meant to be here."

Estel nods. "It confused me as well, at first, when I found myself here instead of the Halls of Mandos. But then Mandos himself came to me, and told me that I was here because, even though on Arda I had been Atani, I had been raised by Quendi, and my closest friends were Quendi." He favors Legolas with an affectionate smile. "He told Ada, who was with me, that it was your bond with me that had sealed their—the Valar's—decision. Mandos had never before seen a bond as powerful as ours—it would have been against fate to separate us, he said."

Legolas laughs, remembering Elrond's warm welcome. He reaches over and pushes back Estel's hair, fingering his now slightly-pointed ears. "I remember, when I first met you, I thought you were an Elfling until you ran out of the room and I saw your ears." Estel chuckles at Legolas' words, lightly kissing the same cheek he had kissed over two hundred years ago.

"We're here, and we're together," Estel murmurs. "What else could we wish for?"

"Nothing," agrees Legolas softly. "Eternity together...that's all we ever wanted." He leans up to press his lips lightly to Estel's in a chaste kiss.

Somewhere outside, a magpie begins to sing.

*-_Finis_-*

* * *

A/N: Whoo, flood of sappiness. xD But oh well...like I told my sister, this whole plot is sappy.

In China, the magpie represents joy.

Translations:  
Aderthad—reunion  
Tithen pen—little one  
Lassë—leaf (used in this story as Legolas' nickname)  
Hir nîn—my lord  
Mae govannen—Well met; or, hello  
Atani—second-born; in other words, Human  
Quendi—firstborn; in other words, Elven

As always, reviews make my day!


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